


Ashayam

by L122YTorch (orphan_account)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2017-12-26 20:03:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/L122YTorch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim returns to the Enterprise the lone survivor of a landing party excursion gone wrong. He is badly injured and the one word he manages to say to Spock before passing out, rocks the Vulcan to his core.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Spock’s eyebrows knitted together in concern. His heart flew in his side, a furious crimson red crept into the corners of his vision.

Get the captain back. Replayed over and over in Spock’s head like a mantra. He stood on the bridge as acting captain, staring at the massive screen in front of him. The window for gazing out upon uncharted worlds, now a communication conference with an alien terrorist.

"You have insulted us with your terms Mr. Spock," the voice was dark and gravelly.

"They were not my terms Mr. Valglad, they were Star Fleet’s terms. We are simply here…" "I know exactly why you’re here," the alien interrupted, his emerald green eyes piercing through the screen.

His voice dropped even lower, “and we do not want to see you back until Star Fleet has agreed to our terms.” Spock felt something akin to fear race up his spine. 

"By killing our landing party and taking our captain hostage, you have voided your right to peaceful negotiation," Spock’s voice held steady.

The lips of the alien curved upward in a sick spiral. “Well then…as a show of our…good faith, it seems we should return your captain,” he drawled out the word “captain” painfully and cocked his head in arrogance. The way the word fell from his tongue, with such disdain, made Spock’s stomach twist.

"This is the price you have paid for your insulting treaty…the death of three men and the torture of your captain. I will beam him back now," the creature said, reclining in his elaborate chair. "If I were you, I’d assemble your doctors. He will be in much pain."

And with that the screen dissolved into a window that stared down upon the hostile planet. It was a swirling mass of black and blood red with bright emerald masses that reflected the green of the alien’s eyes.

Spock didn’t walk to the transport room, he ran. He told whoever was listening on the bridge to get Dr. McCoy, and then he bolted.

The Enterprises’ sterile white hallways seemed to stretch on for an eternity. He whirled past confused and questioning stares until he flew into the transport room.

The first thing that registered was a sound. A heart-wrenching sound. It sounded like Jim, but distorted. It resembled a cry, a sob and a scream all rolled into one.

The sound gathered in decibels as swirling golden lights materialized around the captain’s form. 

There, lying on the floor of the transport was Jim Kirk’s body. His back was to the audience of shocked Enterprise crew who had just beamed him back. He was clad in nothing but his boxers, his arms painfully twisted and bound behind his back, his feet also bound.

Spock felt physically sick. He rushed over to the spot where Jim lay and collapsed gracelessly on the floor. “Jim,” the words slipped past his lips like a prayer.

He shifted the battered man beneath him and bright blue eyes looked up at him. They were filled with pain and anguish and it felt like Spock couldn’t breathe, couldn’t process all of the emotions that burst forth from some secret place within his chest. “Spock…” the words were barely audible. A whisper. A plea.

"God Jim," Bones came rushing in with a nurse and skidded to a halt on the ground next to Spock. The nurse was checking Jim’s vitals, Bones was gathering data. And all Spock could think in the moment was…how could they focus? In a time like this?

"His vitals are all over the place," the nurse said. "From what I can tell so far, he has a bad concussion, two broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder…" Spock couldn’t keep listening.

"We need to get him out these fucking restraints," Bones said, uselessly fiddling with the dark substance that harshly bound Jim’s limbs together. Spock reached for them and pulled at them with all of his strength, but to no avail.

Bones gave an “Ah,” and reached for his laser scalpel. Bright blue light lit a trail of sparks down the binds until they came apart. But Jim didn’t move. His limbs were like dead weights that he had no control over.

McCoy then attached things to the surface of Jim’s skin, he hit him in the neck with two hypo-sprays, but it didn’t garner the usual furious reaction from Jim. Jim wasn’t reacting at all. He had given into the dark refuge from the pain, closed his eyes and let go of consciousness.

"Because of his concussion, we won’t be able to sedate him once he wakes up," Bones said in a flurry of words. "Now’s the best time to put his arm back."

"Put his arm back?" Spock repeated in a questioning tone. "Yes, it’s dislocated," Bones said using a scanner to run over the area in question. Spock could see it. The bone pulled from it’s socket. He blinked hard and steadied his vision.

Bones moved around Jim’s still body and positioned himself, the nurse hung on to Jim’s body as the doctor yanked the arm. A ‘POP’ filled the room and suddenly Jim was awake, screaming. 

Screaming as loud as his exhausted body would allow. It was a sound that none of them wished to ever hear again.

His mouth hung open, lungs heaving for oxygen, mind scrambling for some way to push the pain down. Tears had formed at his eyes and spilled on to the floor.

"Hey buddy," Bones said in his most soothing voice. "You’re gonna be just fine. I promise."

Spock felt his world shift. He struggled to regain control of the myriad of emotions that were running rampant within him. In this moment he did not feel Vulcan. He felt human.

Jim’s eyes rolled in pain and confusion.The usually bright golden skin of his face a battered and pale reflection of what it should be.

Bones stood and ran towards bio bed that would race Jim to the med bay.

Now turned on his back, covered in a smattering of sweat and bruises, Jim sought out Spock’s gaze. More slick, shiny tears slipped from the corners of his eyes. Spock wanted to scan his body and assess the damage, but he couldn’t pull his stare from Jim’s.

Somewhere along the way Spock had reached out, his left hand beneath the pounding head of his captain, his right reaching over his body. Liquid was beginning to form at his eyes…a startling display of waste for a race built to conserve water in a dessert world.

Through the blinding white hot agony, Jim attempted to focus on Spock, on his deep volcanic eyes that swirled with pain and anger. A thousand thoughts flitted through his mind like a picture book. But the hand flipping the pages was slowing down, the thoughts, the images, being pulled down by an ocean of pain.

"Jim," Spock said into the space between them as he noticed the captain’s eyes drifting again into tired obscurity. 

The captain gathered his strength and re-focused his gaze on Spock. 

"Ashayam," he said softly to Spock, as his eyes closed.

The word ripped through Spock, it violently shook every cell of control in his body. He felt like he was being pulled apart at the seams. But he couldn’t focus on the roar between his ears once Bones began to speak.

"Get ‘em up here Spock…carefully" Bones said, standing next to the sterile medical bed. 

Strong hands reached out and scooped up the vulnerable man curled up in a ball on the floor. With a herculean effort, the Vulcan stood, his human in his arms, and turned to place him on the bed. 

Bones and the nurse disappeared out the door. “Ashayam,” the word rocked through Spock’s brain once more. He felt a hot, uncomfortable liquid sliding down his face.

For the second time in his life, he cried.


	2. Chapter 2

A hot tear slipped down Spock's cool face. A roaring ring was reverberating between his ears and his eyes were fixed on the point where Jim had disappeared. 

The thought of losing Jim… again…  
It was painful and unbearable and the notion couldn't even be entertained. 

He steadied his breath and for the first time looked around the room. It was Nyota's gaze that struck him in particular. The shock he found in her features was startling. But he couldn't wrap his mind around anything other than Jim.

It felt like the ground beneath him had given way and he was free-falling into a pit of chaos and sadness. He then became aware of the feeling of multiple hot gazes singing his skin. The room suddenly felt far too small and his brain screamed to his feet to move.

Many crew members that stood in the transport room with him moved or gestured as if to stop or console or follow Spock out of the room, but none did. 

Almost as an afterthought he flipped open his communicator and told Sulu that he temporarily had the con. 

He huffed the sentence nearly breathlessly and found his body being propelled to med bay. For as long and lithe as his build was, it seemed to take far too many steps to reach his destination. And the faster he walked, the harder he breathed, the more the ship seemed to spin. His thoughts spiraling towards the memories of Jim dying in the radiation chamber.

Finally he swung around the corner and strode towards sickbay. The doors whirred open and he stood there, in the entrance of the vast space, grasping the wall next to him for support. 

The feelings he was experiencing were crippling. A sick trepidation gripped his insides and clawed at his chest. With alarm he noted that tiny black dots were sprinkled into the corners of his vision. He blinked hard, multiple times.

Jim was lying on the same bio bed that had carried him from the transport room and Dr. McCoy stood over him, his hands moving, along with a couple of other medics and nurses. 

His brow furrowed. He felt sick. He didn't even notice a set of hands gripping his biceps. "Commander Spock," the gravel voice beckoned his response. He looked up at the nurse and opened his mouth but the words were caught in his throat…the throat that suddenly felt very tight.

Why can't I breathe, he wondered to himself, panic flaring in his eyes. "Spock," the voice appeared again, this time more forceful. "You're having a panic attack," the man in front of him said. 

He looked at the blur that was Jim and McCoy and the medics and then back at the man that stood before him. "Fear is illogical," he reasoned aloud. "It's okay," the man said, gripping Spock by the left shoulder and attempting to remove him from the med bay.

Spock made a protesting noise and resisted. "Sir, please, come outside with me, you'll feel better, I promise," and with that he gave into the gentle nudge out the door. 

He felt disgusted at his lack of control. It was as if all of his Vulcan discipline had melted in the heat of potential loss and pooled around him in a public display of humiliation. But he couldn't help that when he blinked all he could see was Kirk's vacant face on the other side of the glass. His hand limply falling away as the last sparks of life dissipated. 

It ripped open a deep wound that wasn't even two years old and he felt the strongest urge to lash out in some way. 

"Focus on something," the voice in front of him said. "Focus on the wall or the floor…count or…recite a poem or do math," the nurse suggested. Spock looked up at him as if he were insane but began to count in his head anyway.

It helped.

"I want to go in," he heard his voice fill the space between he and his helper. "I wouldn't advise it," was the response. "Before you entered they were preparing the captain for surgery."

Spock's breath hitched. The nurse noticed the resurgent panic. "But just so you know..when Bones took his initial assessment of the Captain, I heard him say 'nothin I can't fix.'"

Although this information hardly seemed like sufficient evidence of Jim's recovery, he felt his breathing slow just a bit. Just enough for him to wrap his fingers around the notion of stability.

"Thank you," he said genuinely to the nurse with a nod, giving the man permission to disappear back inside med bay. 

Spock stood, his back against the cold white wall and closed his eyes. He felt the familiar yearning for revenge…just as he had with Khan. He felt the same roaring rip of pain as he watched his mother disappear before him. He felt the startling loneliness that had engulfed him as his planet disappeared. But despite the cacophony of feelings roaring through his body, he couldn't move. He couldn't act. Not yet. 

He needed to know that Jim was going to recover. He had to be sure of this before anything else.


	3. Chapter 3

Spock knew that he should return to the bridge, resume command. But his mind was entirely engulfed by Jim. By the way his body twisted on the transport pad, by the confused and reeling look etched into his eyes, by the single word that slipped past his lips before his eyelids slid closed.

He gulped and steadied his emotions. 

No one had ever seen him cry in life, save for Jim. It was an act he vowed never to repeat. But standing outside of med bay, waiting, desperately wishing to be next to Jim's side, he felt the urge to cry. He admonished himself for it. He felt disgusted by his burning anger and clinging desperation. 

Never had he put so much stock in another's life. It was his intention to follow the prime directive, to make advances in science, to ensure the survival of the Vulcan colony, to perform his duties as a Star Fleet officer. It was never his desire to become emotionally attached to a human.

Yet the feelings he had towards his captain, defied his version of logic. And those feelings were never stronger than in the moments he feared losing Jim altogether.

He stood outside of med bay, his hands wadded into impossibly tight fists, his heart flying in his side, wondering if he would lose Kirk…once again.

As the hours passed, it only became more difficult to wait. Nurses buzzed by, crew members inquired to Jim's condition, and Spock was continually told that Jim was in surgery and that he wasn't allowed to see him. 

He took a breath and looked down at the floor. None of this seemed real. The gravity of the situation reminding him of the destruction of Vulcan. How helpless he was as he stood by and watched everything he loved fall to pieces.

He couldn't lose Jim.

"Mr. Spock," a different nurse said to him. He hadn't even noticed when she appeared. Quickly he turned to face her, his lips parting, taking in a steady stream of fresh air to calm himself before hearing what was about to come next.

"Captain Kirk has been stabilized. He required extensive surgery," she paused, her glossy red hair shining like a ruby beneath the bright hallway lights. "Can I see him?" Spock managed to get out. The woman nervously bit her lip and looked at the doors. "Visitors aren't being permitted at this time," she replied, her high voice only adding to the annoyance of her words.

Spock set his jaw tight, his black eyes piercing the door. "He is out of surgery, correct?" "Yes…but…" she didn't have time to finish the sentence before Spock was pushing past her, into the med bay. "Sir," she called after him, but to no avail.

With a brisk gate he swung through the open space and literally bumped into Bones coming out of Jim's room. 

McCoy was startled by the look on Spock's face. He seemed…scared. But only for a moment, before this features condensed back into a mask of mild concern. "Spock, I can't let you see him." The Vulcans eyebrows knitted together. "Why not?"

"He's barely stable. And hardly in a condition to be visited." Spock's eyes grew darker, his chest moving up and down noticeably beneath his blue science uniform. Spock took a moment to compose himself, and looked down at his hands that remained clasped in front of him. Jim's blood clung to the sleeves of his shirt. It made the dark blue material turn purple. He felt ill.

With renewed determination he looked back up at the doctor. "Please," he heard himself grit out. Bones looked genuinely surprised. He looked as if he was about to speak but was interrupted by Spock. "I wish to see him now," he said moving past Bones, and the doctor didn't stop him.

He slipped past the brunette doctor, still wearing a surgical smock smattered with human blood.

Mentally, he knew what to expect when he saw Jim. He had seen the man beaten, bloodied, bruised and even dead. But it still wasn't enough. He was still taken aback by the pale pallor of Jim's skin, by the patched bandages with bright red blotches seeping through. Jim's face was swollen, his broken body exposed beneath the shining lights of med bay.

He came closer, pulled up a seat next to the bio bed. Tentatively he sat, never taking his eyes off of Jim's face. He wished to say something, but didn't know what. He wished to move, but didn't know how. So he placed a hand next to Jim's on the bed. 

He closed his eyes, the image of Jim like this becoming more and more difficult to take in. 

His thoughts were screaming through his mind, in the most uncontrolled, human way possible. The onslaught of emotions were uncomfortable to say the least. It was in these moments he felt inadequate to be a Vulcan but too misunderstanding to be human.

"Ashayam" the word reverberated in his head, pulling at his heart. He tried to focus on that word more than the other word that was ringing in his mind…."torture." They had tortured Jim, his captain. He should have been in that landing party. 

Despair began to envelope the alien. He wanted desperately to meditate, to regain his composure, but…

Suddenly his mind was snapped violently from his train of thought. A burning spark erupted in his fingers and the sensation flew threw every nerve in his body. He felt an overwhelming pain pushing down his mental barriers, yet beneath that pain was such a full-bodied and brilliant sense of desire. 

His eyes snapped open and looked down at his hand. Jim had flipped over his right hand, and extended two fingers that he had slipped beneath Spock's index and middle finger. 

Jim had kissed Spock. And the realization of this rumbled through Spock, it split open his resolve, and sent a fresh tidal wave of feelings barreling through his already exhausted system.


	4. Chapter 4

Jim's head roared, the lights above his bed stung at his burning dry eyes. There was a light in his mind that pushed him forward, out of darkness. He remembered reaching for that light, reaching for life, and when he touched it, sparks erupted in his fingers.

The feeling wasn't uncomfortable, it was desirable, but still he pulled the hand back, and fell once again into an uncomplicated darkness.

The second time he had reached for that light in his mind he emerged on the other side of consciousness. Lying here on this bio bed, listening to the monitors whisper sweet nothings into his ears. He gulped but his throat stuck together. For a moment he panicked, wondered how long he had been unconscious…He heard the spike of his panic echo in the bio bed monitor.

There was no one at his bedside. And just as the palest pink lips parted to give signal of life, Bones came into the room.

"Fuck Jim," McCoy huffed, rushing over to his side, hypospray in hand.

Only Bones could make a curse sound like a blessing. There were such layers of relief built into those two single syllable words. "Good to see you too," Jim croaked, surprised at how alien his voice sounded.

He tried to crack a smile, but failed.

"How long was I out?" 

McCoy drew near and gently turned Kirk's face, slipping a hypospray into his neck. Jim didn't even hiss in protest…he was just so damn tired. 

The doctor pulled away and looked at his friend, a response forming behind his troubled eyes. "Nearly three weeks," he said, turning to check Jim's vitals on the monitor. Bones folded his arms and stared at the screen. "You had us really worried there Jim," a moment of loaded silence passed between them.

"I swear to god, every time you nearly die…it takes a decade off my lifespan," the medical officer said, turning his head towards Jim with a small grin. 

"How bad was I?" 

McCoy walked back towards the bed, teasing his upper lip in his bottom teeth. "Pretty bad off Jim. You had two broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, a knife wound and one hell of a concussion," he shifted his weight, his face really did look ten years older under this light.

"We didn't want to sedate you because of the concussion, but we had to do surgery and repair the damage done by the knife," his heavy eyes slid to the floor. "Unfortunately," he sighed, "the sedation was too much…coupled with your concussion…" Jim's eyes grew wide at the pause in the sentence, his breath held captive within his chest. "It put you into a coma Jim," Bones finished.

The captain didn't know how to respond. He could see the fear lurking on his friend's features. 

"But I'm okay? Now I mean?" he asked. 

"From what I can tell…yeah," the doctor answered, picking up a PADD and staring at it intently. "We didn't know when you'd wake up…or if." 

"I swear Jim, you're like a friggin cat," McCoy said to the blonde in the bio bed who looked confused at the statement. "You must have 9 friggin lives to keep cheating death like this," Jim smiled an empty smile. "I didn't cheat death last time, remember?" 

McCoy looked up from the PADD and briefly wondered what it must have been like for Jim to die.

The memory made his stomach twist and desperately he wanted out of this line of conversation. So he set the device down and turned to leave the room. "Nurse Chapel will give you another look over," Bones said. "I'm gonna tell the bridge that you're alive…definitely Spock…" the doctor was nearly out of sight.

"Wh…what, why 'definitely Spock?" Jim asked, trying to painstakingly prop himself up on his good arm. His friend turned around. "Spock was in here constantly while you were out. Anytime he wasn't on shift or getting his required three hours of sleep, he was by your side."

Jim slid back down into the bed. McCoy disappeared. 

Spock.

He closed his eyes and remembered seeing his First Officer hunched over him. 

Spock was holding him. 

He was in so much pain that it took his breath away. The room spun violently, then went dark.

Memories of how he had been tortured were nagging at his mind, but he kept the door that held them back, shut tight. He couldn't handle it right now - the realization of everything that had happened. 

He didn't want to free those memories and let them course through his mind. Still, without thought, a spike of fear-fueled adrenaline surged through his body, chest rising and falling faster.

"Captain?"

His eyelids flew open, focus falling on Spock who now stood at the entrance of his small room. "Spock," Jim sighed, an abounding sense of relief starting to wash away at the panic.

"Are you alright? Should I summon the doctor?" Spock sounded concerned. "No…no, I'm fine," Jim assured him with a steady tone and a slight wave of his hand. Spock seemed satisfied with that answer, he lowered his head a little and stepped closer to the bed. 

"It is good to see you awake Captain." "Dear god man, call me Jim…" Spock nodded. "Jim."

"It's good to be awake," Jim sighed. "Thanks for keeping me company," the words were almost inaudible, yet Spock's eyes widened. "Bones told me that you spent time with me while I was…asleep." 

Wheels were turning behind Spock's eyes, but all that came out of his mouth was "you are welcome Jim."

There was a vulnerability in the moment they were sharing. Jim wanted Spock to be closer. He wanted to tell him everything that happened on that miserable planet, wanted to hear about everything that had happened in the three weeks since…there was so much to say and learn that the very thought of it all was exhausting.

"There's so much…" Jim started but trailed off. There were a dozens of possible endings to that sentence he could choose from. There's so much I want to share with you, so much I'm scared of, so much to say and do and ask…

The Vulcan reached out a hand and placed it lightly on Jim's arm. "I know Jim, but for now, you need to focus on your recovery." He wanted to resist touching the captain, but the situation warranted physical contact in a reassuring manner, so he provided it. Still, the touch made his fingers tingle, his affection spike, put his mental shields to the test as Jim's potent emotions pounded against them.

The officer removed his hand just a moment before nurse Chapel came in. "Captain, it's so good to see you awake," she said as she crossed the small space and began running surface scans. 

Jim glanced over at her, then back to Spock. He felt like he was trying to run through quick sand. There was so much he needed to do and he was stuck here, with a head that felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. 

"Commander, we'll need the room," Chapel spoke, breaking Jim's train of thought. 

"Of course," he acquiesced, placing his hands behind his back and heading for the exit.

"You gonna come back?" Jim asked. Chapel was delicately turning his head in order to take a brain scan, his eyes snapped shut in a wince of white hot pain. Spock's human eyes looked tortured. "Of course captain. I will revisit you once Alpha shift ends," he said stepping out of the room.

Leaving the tiny space was exceedingly difficult, especially after he witnessed such a flash of pain fall across Jim's face. But he had to leave, had to resume his duties, had to prepare for the questions Jim would ask, and whatever torturous stories he would share. 

It was in considering the latter of these things, that Spock found his resolve trembling.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, non-con ahead and also…I didn't have time to proof-read so there may be some errors or issues that I will soon fix! I just wanted to go ahead and get it posted!

Spock returned after Alpha shift ended, but Jim was knocked out cold. He slept deeper than he ever had before. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism. But if so, it was failing. Vivid nightmares sprung to life inside Jim's mind.

Bright green eyes were burned into his mind. He could feel his arms go numb after spending hours tied up, his whole body trembling, naked, scared. There was very little that the star ship captain was scared of, but Valglad and these insidious creatures…they scared him. 

The idea of being held hostage and tortured…was far more terrifying than the idea of death. He nearly wished for death as he sunk against the freezing wall battered, starving and violated. 

With a violent gasp Jim would awaken from these dreams. His heart would skip beats, it was pounding so fast. Bones rushed into the room in a panic the first couple times that it happened. But lately he'd taken to sitting in the room and watching over Jim as he slept.

Jim felt embarrassed when he screamed himself awake with tears trailing down his face. Bones would be in the corner, averting his concerned gaze, checking Jim's vitals, silent concern etched into his features. He was always there ready, waiting for the captain to share what had really happened to him on that godforsaken planet. But Jim kept avoiding it…talking his way out of it. He almost looked worse now that he was awake, then when he rested, fast asleep, in a coma.

A week went by.

Bones grew increasingly concerned about Jim's state, and he was kind of at a loss in what to do about it. He talked to Jim, tried to get him to open up, but failed at every attempt.

"Spock…you've got to do something…" Bones said to the Vulcan. They stood in an empty med-bay room, well into the middle of the night. "It's only been a week doctor," Spock replied. "Perhaps he needs more time to process what has happened. We can't force him…." "No…but we can gently prod," Bones interrupted. "I've already tried, and now it's your turn," he said, jabbing the Vulcan in the chest with a pointed finger. 

Spock's heart thudded in his side. He felt nervous at the prospect of confronting Jim about what happened to him. Part of him wished to know, and part of him dreaded the knowledge. He felt conflicted, and unsure of how to proceed. But Bones glared at him, and he reached the conclusion that as Jim's friend, it was his duty to be there for him.

Uncertainty of what to say or do made Spock feel foreign in his own skin. He had spent the past four weeks as acting captain, constantly worrying over Jim, but once the human woke up, he visited less frequently. He felt guilty for it. But his emotions threatened to bubble to the surface. Anger and sadness and affection all collided in a whirlwind of agony when he saw his captain.

It was his job to save Jim, it was his job to seek justice for what had happened. And he felt as though he had failed at doing both.

The room was so quiet that Spock could hear Jim breathing. His big brown eyes scanned the room and fell on Jim's face. He looked tired and pale, but gave a smile anyway.

"Hey Spock," he said. "Bones send you in here to give me a pep talk? Cheer me up?" 

Spock's lips parted but he didn't say anything. Instead he pulled up a chair and took a seat. 

He sat there quietly for a moment before finally saying, "I'm worried about you Jim." The statement was a nearly inaudible whisper. 

He tried to choose his words carefully, suddenly acutely aware of his tone and body language. He wondered what he should say next.

Jim rolled his eyes and huffed. "I just need time to recover Spock…maybe another week…then I'll be up and running, good as new," Jim said, trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince Spock.

Spock looked down to his folded hands, resting in his lap. "I think…maybe it would be easier…" Spock struggled. It was a rare thing for him to be out of words. "I could meld with you," he said tentatively. The monitor betrayed that Jim's heart was accelerating.

"It's the fastest way to transfer information," damn it, he sounded too cold. "I think you'd find it…reassuring. Comforting," Spock stopped, looking up at Jim's brilliant blue eyes. They were missing their spark, and it scared the Vulcan.

Jim's expression was troubled, he looked uncertain. He cleared his throat after a prolonged silence between them…and agreed.

"Okay…yeah," he said, suprising Spock who remained motionless. After a moment, when Spock didn't move or reply, Jim turned on his side and reached out for Spock's hands; they were warm and soft. He took one and brought it close to his face, watching as Spock's fingers fanned out and gravitated towards his meld points.

"Are you sure…" Spock queried one last time. "No…" Jim's voice was broken. Spock made as if to pull his hand back, but Jim pulled it close once more. "I don't really want you to know what happened," Jim said, Spock's electric hand just an inch from his face. "But…maybe telling you will keep me sane, help me get better faster. So just…do it before I change my mind." 

Brown eyes searched his gaze thoroughly. Spock skimmed the surface of Jim's thoughts, and decided to proceed.

When the fingers touched Jim's flesh, it was like putting a plug into a socket. Spock could feel Jim's hesitation, exhaustion, and pain. He wanted so badly to help Jim; so he tried to project safety and affection. It pained Jim to realize and experience how tortured the Vulcan had been over the past four weeks. 

He saw Spock hovering over him in the transport room, felt relief coursing through his body, despite searing pain. His head hurt so badly that he began to recess into the quiet blackness of his mind. In that moment, he clung to a moment that he witnessed with Spock prime in their meld on Delta Vega. 

Spock was in his bed, asleep, and Jim ran a hand through his soft, chalkboard black hair, whispering "Ashayam." The word floated out of his mind, past his cracked and bleeding lips, he spoke the word aloud. And in that moment, he felt the shock that Spock had experienced upon hearing it.

And then he was standing in the transport room, about to be beamed down to negotiate terms with Valglad. But it all went so wrong and so fast, and Spock could feel Jim's realization that the whole thing was a trap. He could feel panic creeping into his heart, making his blood run cold. Jim was talking with the alien when someone smacked him across the back of his head with a weapon. Jim's unconscious body fell to the ground in a heap.

Jim's mind vibrated in panic, reached out for Spock. 

"I'm here Ashayam," Spock assured through their connection. 

Jim calmed a bit, revealing himself being beaten. He was so tired, thirsty, sore, freezing. Green eyes crawled all over his body, greedy hands stripped him of his clothes. Valglad was touching him. Stroking him. His body reacting without his mind's consent. His panicked eyes tried to focus on anything but those emerald eyes. He stared at the bleak room, at the chains that shackled his hands above his head, but Valglad gripped his face in his bony hands. Hands that brought his head down to his attacker's engorged member.

But Jim resisted, his mouth clamped shut, until Valglad slammed his head against the wall once, and then twice, and then again, until his mouth fell open in pain. And then his mouth was full. He was choking, gagging, and when the deed was done, he vomited on the floor.

The meld vibrated with fury as Spock struggled to control his feelings.

Then Valgrad was talking to Jim. It was fuzzy at first, obscured by the ringing between his ears, but it got clearer.

"You are a fine looking man," the alien whispered, his hands once again on Jim. It was later, much later, the sky was dark. "I bet anyone in the galaxy would be delighted to have you," he said, his fingers wrapping around Jim's length. "But I wonder…who it is you want? Who you desire?" he said sticking his dirty fingers into Jim's mouth, slicking them up.

As soon as the alien spoke the words, Jim's mind fled to Spock. He wanted Spock's hand around his dick, Spock's lips melting into his, Spock's body pulsing into him. His mind flipped through a hundred daydreams of he and his First Officer; naked, kissing, grunting, rutting, hungrily seeking one another. Instead, he was being pulled open by this disgusting creature. His legs were dragged open, whole body exposed, as the alien licked at his sex and ran his hands all over Kirk.

Fingers breached him, but that was it. Someone called Valglad away. Thank God. Some of Valglad minions came into the quiet room. He was beaten some more, left tattered and hard on the floor. 

Blood poured out of his nose, pain stabbed at his head, his shoulder, his ribs, his ass. Someone was putting his boxers back on him, but that was all. They drug him down a corridor, and then another, to a transport room. 

"It's been lovely having you stay with us," Valglad said, curling a finger under Jim's chin. "It's such a shame that we must send you back so early." "Where's…" Jim started, only to be interrupted with... "Oh don't worry, the rest of your landing party is dead. It's just you we're returning to the Enterprise."

Jim's stomach turned, his vision swam, his head pounded. "It's such a shame," Valglad said, moving a strong hand to roam across Jim's body, and stop at his ass, "that we didn't get the chance to finish what we started," he said, violently pulling Jim's head towards his for a kiss.

The tongue that slipped into JIm's mouth was snake-like and the spit was bitter. When Valglad pulled away, the captain gathered the courage to ask… "why are you returning me? Why didn't you 'finish what you started?'"

"Ooh, I like you Captain," Valglad responded cheerfully. "You are brave," he said with a dark smile before hitting Jim in the face. The human reeled. "Unfortunately, we have more important matters to attend to," he said, grabbing Jim by his already dislocated shoulder and shoving him to the floor of the transport pad. "I'm sure we'll meet again," he heard, before his body dematerialized.

Shock and heartbreak and pain shouted through the meld. Jim could feel Spock attempting to quiet his own emotions and failing. Especially as he caught a glimpse of one of Jim's nightmares. 

His gripping anger was beginning to pull at the meld, he needed to get out. He felt Jim second-guess his decision to let Spock into his mind.

"Wait," he heard Jim think, before pulling his hand away.

They returned to the bright lights of med-bay. Jim's hot tears slid down his face. He looked up at Spock and waited for him to say something, but he didn't.

"Spock…" he said, but the Vulcan was seething, trying desperately to calm himself. "Spock…" he said again, this time reaching a hand out to touch his friend. Spock's eyes connected with his. They teemed with a thousand burning emotions. The Vulcan's expression went from daggers to agony, the hand grounded him in the present moment.

"I'm sorry Spock…I shouldn't have showed you." "No," Spock said, a little too forcefully. "I have no regrets that you showed me."

"I didn't mean for you to see…" he paused, "…to see that I... desire…you," he finished weakly. In the meld there were flashes of Jim seeing Spock with Uhura, jealously burning with desire. He saw Jim touching himself, thinking of Spock. One thing was for sure, the science officer got an eyeful in that meld, and it scared the hell out of Jim. He couldn't handle losing Spock as his friend. 

Almost imperceptibly Spock shook his head as if to say that it was alright. "I wish that I could help you in some way Jim," Spock said sullenly. "I wish there was something I could do."

Jim's gaze focused somewhere behind the Vulcan. He went somewhere else in his mind. So quietly he whispered "I wish I could kiss you…to get the taste of him out of my mouth."

The human returned his gaze to Spock, unaware that he had even heard his nearly silent plea. But the science officer had heard, and he drew his face close to Jim's. Before the human even had time to panic, Spock's lips were insistently pressing down into his own. 

It was a light kiss, until Jim moaned and parted his lips, dragging the Vulcan even closer. Spock's hands were in Jim's golden blonde hair, running down the side of his face, traveling to his pulsing neck. 

The Vulcan's hands were so warm and his kiss was so possessive yet affectionate. There was gasping for breath, teeth dragging against lips, and warm sweet tongue, and Jim felt like his soul was starting to come alive again. All he needed, all he wanted, in this moment and every moment, was Spock. 

His thoughts vibrated with one singular word; Ashayam.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the reviews! One review I received recently helped shape this chapter, so keep up the suggestions!

Jim was no stranger to being kissed, but this…this was different. Being kissed by Spock was a sensation all its own. All of the intensity that Spock emanated, all of the emotions that he didn't, collided in that singular mind-shattering meeting of lips.

His brain couldn't quite catch up with the action. He lay there, mind reeling, sucking in a few deep breaths, severely missing Spock's warmth as he drew away.

Big blue eyes stared at Spock. To say he was in shock would be an understatement. 

"I…."

God, please don't apologize, Jim thought.

Spock felt awkward. Like he had taken advantage of Jim, even though he only did what Jim wanted. He considered an apology, and very nearly uttered the words before silencing his thoughts.

So he let the lonely word hang in the air between them.

"I wanted you to kiss me," Jim tried recovering the situation. 

Spock just stood at his bedside, looking down at Jim. He could practically feel the heat from the friction of the wheels turning inside the Vulcan's mind. Kirk had a week to sort of process what had happened to him, and Spock had less than five minutes. It was a lot to deal with. Especially for someone who'd been raised from birth to remain emotionally repressed.

"You make me feel safe," Jim spoke softly.

Spock's gaze snapped to his. His brown eyes rumbled like the beginnings of a volcano about to erupt. "How is that possible?" he barely managed to grit out.

Kirk looked confused. 

"How is it possible that I make you feel safe ... when I should have been there to protect you," the words burned on his tongue, the guilt churned in his gut.

Spock's roughly kissed lips were a deep shade of green. A few strands of ink black hair were out of place. He grew dark like a storm cloud distressed by it's own weight. 

Jim sat up and looked intently at his first officer. "What happened wasn't you're fault."

The words sounded hollow to the Vulcan.

"It seems as though I am always too late to come to your aid."

Jim felt like he was quickly losing whatever semblance of control he might have in this conversation. "This isn't a pity party Spock," he said roughly. "You have done more for me…you mean more to me…than…" he shook his head, struggling with the words, so he abandoned them. 

"I won't let this consume me Spock, so you sure as hell better not let it consume you either," he shot.

Spock took deep breaths, his eyes were still dark, his jaw set like cement.

"I know you're angry..." Jim said. 

"You should not have to be concerned about my emotions in a time like this," Spock cut him off. He was livid at the fact that he had let himself become the center of this situation. He crumbled, just as he did the day Jim died, and that lack of self-control made him feel sick.

His anger was palpable, it rolled off of his body in waves. The intense affection and desire he experienced for Jim in the kiss only served to fuel the rage that now threatened to blind him. There was nothing he wanted more in this moment than to feel Valglad's skull crack beneath his boot. 

The intense need he felt to deliver vengeance scared him.

No one could make him come undone as quickly as Jim. 

That scared him as well.

As a Vulcan, he should fear nothing.

"Spock," Jim said, reaching out a hand to flatten against the blue-clad chest. His name broke through Spock's thoughts. Jim's ocean eyes were both soothing his pain, and dissecting his emotions. The human looked so concerned.

"You do not need to worry about me Captain."

"Well…the fact that you just addressed me as Captain worries me," Jim attempted a smile.

"I apologize Jim," Spock said, his words seemingly informal as his posture retreated into formality. He stood at military ease, his hands grasped behind his back so hard that it would leave bruises. 

He wasn't sure if he should stay or leave, if it was right to ask or if, in this situation, he should just know what to do. The Vulcan was at a loss. 

"Bones said he'd let me go tomorrow," Jim smiled. "And thank god for that, because he's started watching me when I sleep and it's kind of creepy."

Spock's face remained still and serious. 

Okay, so lightening the mood wasn't going to work.

"Why don't you go get some rest Spock," Jim offered, affection warm in his voice. "I'll be fine, I promise."

Again, Spock's lips parted as if to reply, but he wasn't sure what to say. He just looked down at Jim, grateful that a tiny spark had reappeared in his ocean eyes. He wanted to heal Jim, to guard him, to help him, to protect him, to love him. It was too much and not enough, all at once.

The heart monitor beeped softly during the quiet pauses in conversation. The room was too white, too empty, the lights too bright. Spock didn't want to leave Jim alone, but he needed to meditate.

So he acquiesced, and gave a slight nod, before departing. 

But as he turned to go, Jim's hand bolted out and grabbed his. Warm, human fingers slid against his own in a novice attempt at a Vulcan kiss. Heat shot up his hand and unfolded in his chest.

As soon as Spock realized what was happening, the hand disappeared back to Jim's side, where the man smiled up at him.

The kiss warmed his heart and eased his mind, if only for a few moments. Silently, he turned and left the room.

He was met with a sleepy Bones, leaning up against a wall, patiently awaiting the science officer. Upon seeing him, the man shot up and came towards Spock.

"So…?"he started, but then stopped upon seeing the expression on Spock's face. 

"I'm sorry doctor," Spock said in his best 'calm and collected, but underneath I'm actually losing my shit' voice. "But I must be going."

Bones face twisted up in confusion and anger. "Just wait a damn second…" he said, fury building in his expression. "You can't just walk away…I mean…what's going on? Is he going to be okay?"

Spock took a deep breath and replied, "yes Dr. McCoy, Jim will be all right. I will discuss the situation with you further tomorrow." 

And with that, he swiftly exited med bay and strode down the hall, past a primary rainbow of other crew members. He nodded back when he was nodded to, and not once did his steps falter. 

But as soon as the door to his quarters whooshed shut, his hands began to tremble. Despite the overwhelming desire to scream, he instead turned silently and brutally punched the wall that separated his room from his bathroom. 

A loud bang filled the small space. 

But still, he felt no relief.

So he punched it again and again, until he tore a hole in the structure, and bits of jagged metal stuck out, scraping against his hand. 

He stopped. Breathed deeply.

Bright green liquid slipped out of the freshly formed cuts. He stared down at the blood that dripped from his hand and pooled on the floor. 

It didn't hurt nearly as bad as he wanted it too.


	7. Chapter 7

Bones made good on his word and released Jim the next day.

Kirk was thrilled at the prospect of getting back to living a "normal" life. It was such a relief to be freed of monitors and reintroduced to pants.

"I can't wait to sleep in my own bed."

"Bio beds are comfy…" Bones contended as they stood together in Jim's med bay room as he prepared to leave.

He was hovering like a mother. "You sure…"

"Yeah, Bones I'm sure. I'm fine!" Jim smiled, but it wasn't enough to convince McCoy. 

Dammit, this shit made Bones so uncomfortable. He wasn't looking forward to what he had to say next.

"You really need a psych eval Jim," he said quickly, ripping it off like a bandaid.

Jim's face twisted in disapproval. He knew that he couldn't fight Bones on this one, but that doesn't mean that he liked the idea.

"I don't know why you won't just tell me what happened," his tone softened. "I know you told Spock."

Kirk's eyes lit up in alarm, subconsciously he fiddled with the med gown in his hands, wringing it like a washcloth.

"He didn't say anything," Bones continued, "but I just knew." Jim visibly relaxed. "Why don't you just tell me what happened?"

Jim's mouth went dry, his mind was blank, all he wanted in this moment was to escape from this encounter. He sighed. "I…I will Bones…"

"You keep sayin' that."

"Look, I know we're friends. And you can talk to me about whatever, whenever. But even if you're not going to talk to me, you sure as hell need to talk to someone. And by someone, I mean a therapist."

"Okay," Jim managed. "Set it up and I'll do it. Okay?" he said, clapping Bones on the shoulder and walking past him to the door.

The doctor would never voice it, but he was disappointed that his best friend was keeping him in the cold. But he didn't need to say it, Jim already knew, and it only added to the pressure that weighed on his chest.

He stopped before walking out of the room. It was so quiet in the small space without the steady hum of the medical equipment. But Jim's words ventured into the silence… "I want to tell you Bones. I will. Just…" he sighed so deep that it actually hurt his lungs. "Give…give me some time," he said as he left.

Stepping into the hall for the first time in a month was a shock. It was full of life and color and noise, so much so that it was nearly overwhelming. Kirk just did his best to nod when nodded to and smile when smiled to. He couldn't even make it to his room without being saluted, hugged or given a handshake.

How the hell was he going to resume life as "normal?" How would he field the tough questions…continue to answer the redundant ones and keep a happy face for his crew? Just the thought of it all was exhausting. Not to mention the fact that he'd missed thirty days of work. There'd be paperwork up to his eyeballs.

Despite sitting in the highest chair on the Enterprise, he often felt like the ship was on his shoulders instead. It sprung a nagging sense of dread to life somewhere in the pit of his stomach.

Once he reached the familiar door to his quarters, he let his mask slip off.

"Lights 60%" he said to the empty room. It looked just as he had left it. A month? It felt like he'd been gone for half a year. While he was being tortured he had wondered if he'd ever see this room again. 

After resting against the door for a moment, he wandered into the space. He ran the tips of his fingers against the cool surface of his desk as he made his way over to the bed. He stopped at the nightstand, pulling open a drawer and reaching to the back to pull out a worn book. 

Slowly he cracked open the anthology of poetry, letting the pages fall open naturally to the spot where a worn photo lived. He inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of the Terran book, and stared down at the photo. His eyes were greeted with the smiling faces of his parents.

He smiled, closed the book and returned it to it's spot. 

For a moment Jim considered flopping down on the bed, diving headfirst into his pillow and sleeping for so long that someone from med bay would probably come looking.

But he turned and took in the sight of the door that goes into the bathroom. The bathroom that he shares with Spock. Spock's on the other side of two doors. 

He hadn't seen his favorite Vulcan since yesterday, since they…kissed.

Despite being thoroughly exhausted, Kirk moved through the room, through the door, through the bathroom and gathering his courage, knocked on Spock's bathroom door.

It was opened to him almost immediately. "Captain?" Spock said, clearly surprised to see Jim. "Is everything alright?" 

Jim chuckled. "Yeah Spock, everything's fine. Mind if I come in?" he motioned past the science officer who stood in the doorway. Spock hesitated before nodding and moving aside.

The room was warm and it smelled incredible. "Spock I…" Jim started before turning, his eyes falling on the giant hole in the wall. "What the hell happened?"

Spock simply looked at the wall and then back at Jim. "It is of no consequence" was his slick response. 

"The hell it isn't! What are you related to Hulk?" 

"Who is Hulk?"

"Nevermind," Jim said rubbing a hand over his face. "Look, Spock, I just wanted….I wanted to…" he stopped, not sure at all of what he wanted. He gulped and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. 

"It is I who should be checking in with you captain," Spock filled the silence. "I am not sure if my actions yesterday were appropriate." The words came out level, his demeanor remained the same, but the very tips of Spock's ears were flushing a moss green.

"I apologize…" he began.

"Dear God man, don't!" 

Spock observed that Jim's demeanor had quickly turned angry…hurt.

"Did you kiss me because I wanted you to. Or because you wanted to?" Jim asked, taking several steps forward, until he stood right in front of his first officer.

"Both I suppose."

Kirk nodded. 

"Then don't apologize. The last thing I want is for you to take it back or pretend it didn't happen." 

"I was simply concerned that my actions were too brash considering how recently…" Spock trailed off. 

That never happened.

Jim tilted his head downward and looked at the blue-clad chest in front of him. He watched the Starfleet fabric rise and fall almost imperceptibly. The gravity of the situation between them was so real, so solid that he could set a glass of water down on it.

"It wasn't too soon Spock," he said, forcing his gaze upward. "I needed you in that moment. I've always needed you…wanted you. I just…didn't know if you wanted me."

Spock's mahogany stare bored holes into the Starfleet captain. His mind grappled for appropriate responses and actions, tripping over the surprise and sharp rush of affection that rose up beneath his ribcage. 

"Yes, I do," was the best he could do.

With a small but loaded sigh of relief, Jim's face relaxed. Those three words felt like water in a desert, sleep to an insomniac, steak to a starving man. 

In this moment between them, Jim had allowed his eyes to explore the Vulcan, coming to a stop on his bandaged hand. He reached out and pulled it towards him gently. Spock didn't resist as he began to peel away the layers of gauze with forrest green splotches on them. 

He delicately ghosted over the cuts with his thumb. 

Jim looked up at Spock, but Spock was looking away; dissatisfied.

"It's okay to be angry Spock. It's okay to lose control."

The Vulcan took in the sight of his own battered hand. His apparent lack of self control gnawed at him, bothered him, until perhaps, this moment.

"More than anything, it is you who makes me feel as though I am going to lose control."

Jim's eyes were confused but his mouth smiled.

"Is that a good thing Mr. Spock?"

"I believe it is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I had written more into this chapter…and though it's uber hot, I wasn't sure if it was too soon to introduce…bah! I don't know what to do, it's so late and I'm so hungry! So this is what I did for this chapter. What do you think? Would you have wanted more hotness, or is it the perfect temperature of smolder?
> 
> Feedback much appreciated!


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